Semper Fidelis, Always Faithful
by A Flying Tomato
Summary: NERV is in desperate need for a new security force. The Solution? A Platoon of U.S Marine Force Recon Operators and their new toys: Armored Combat Exoskeletons. What could possibly go wrong? A slight AU fic set before the Sixth Angel.
1. Swift, Silent, Deadly

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

_

* * *

_

THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP

The deep, loud props of propellers whipping through the air filled the quiet Southern California night. A pair of immense and mighty V-120 Valkyrie transport VTOLs sped through sky; their quad rotors shifting ever so slightly to help the aircraft descend as they approached their destination.

"ETA: Sixty seconds." One of the pilots spoke over the comlink to the Valkyrie's invaluable occupants.

Within the troop bay, a red light flickered to life and the reaction was immediate. A group of six heavily armed and highly armored men prepared for landing; the squad checked and rechecked their weapons and equipment in a precise orchestra of clicks.

"Marines! I want tactical columns down the ramps! Secure the LZ soon as the bird hits the deck!" The leader of the group of men shouted his out orders over the roar of the transport's engines.

"Wilco sir." A voice replied into the leader's ear piece. Only seconds later, the Valkyries landed on a strip of dirt in middle of a forest. Within the bay, the red light changed to green, the ramp lowered and the squad were up and out.

"Go! Go! Go!" Heavy footsteps thundered as they hit the dirt. Huge, armored, mechanized men exited both transports and took up defensive positions. A high pitched whining sound echoed as a minigun powered up, a Marine scanning the nearby tree line for any signs of danger.

The leader nodded his head in approval as his men secured the landing zone. He then keyed his mike in and summoned the pilots of the V-120s.

"Vulture Two-Four; we're go to go here, over?"

"Copy that Bravo Six. Vulture is close to bingo fuel. We're bugging out but will be back on station for evac in ten mikes, how copy?"

"Solid on that. Bravo Six out." The Valkyries took off from the landing zone and headed back the way they came, leaving behind the group of eleven men.

"Alright, let's get moving!" Bravo Six ordered his squad and they began moving through the forest; thunderous footfalls followed every step they took. The shining moonlight caught a quick glimpse of thick, green platted armor and a pair of thin, slit-like optics that burned a brilliant gold. The sight lasted only a split second though as the huge, metallic man disappeared into the thick forest tree line, along with the rest of his squad.

The forest area seemed to stretch on forever, but eventually halted at the base of a large cliff which overlooked a small valley. The roar of engines and treaded vehicles resonated from below and the group of armored men surveyed the area thoroughly.

"First Sergeant." Bravo Six spoke to one of his fellow metal giants.

"Sir?"

"What do you estimate their numbers to be?"

The First Sergeant glanced back towards the valley, taking in as many details as possible before answering. "Hostile troops: company strength. Being supported by a platoon of armor; Abrams and Bradley's all around." Bravo Six nodded, taking in the information and coming up with a strategy.

"Alright, form up." The squad made a school circle around their leader, who brought up a GPS map of the nearby valley over his HUD and transferred the data to the others.

"First Sergeant Mitchell. I need you to take your team and circle around the enemy's flank near Grid E-12." The First Sergeant nodded and glanced to the four men next to him, they all acknowledged him with another nod, understanding what they must do, and focused again on the briefing.

"The rest of us will engage the hostile armor head on and divert attention. Mitchell, when I give the order, I'll be counting on you to hit their flanks, heavy and hard."

"You can count on us sir." The Sergeant reassured his CO.

He nodded. "Okay then. Gung-Ho?" The squad's response was without any hesitation.

"Oorah!"

The group then began to move. Mitchell and his team beginning a climb down the cliff, stealthily. Bravo Six and the others flipped the safeties off their weapons, took a few steps back and took a final last, long look towards the Cliffside. In another time, a cliff like that would have been an obstacle that could've slowed down a unit a considerable amount of time.

But not to these men. Quite the opposite. Bravo Six took a steady step forward before running top speed and jumping off. He free fell for a split second before four separate thrusters on his mechanized back ignited to life and he jet through the air. Behind him, five other engines flared to life and suddenly six Marines were flying through the sky, descending toward their target. With the obvious exception of the squad; the night air was still and quiet for a moment…

And then came the tracer fire. It lit up the night sky, lead and bullets flying through the air, zipping past the flying Marines, a few striking them and bouncing off armored platting.

In a sudden rash decision, Bravo Six cut off all power to his jump jets and fell several dozens of feet to the valley floor. Taking hint, the others followed suit and all free fell to ground. Upon impact, each man created a small explosion of dirt and rock; a thick dust cloud, equal to the effects of a smoke grenade, rose and obscured any sight of the squad.

Then out of the cloud, six weapons opened up and returned fire. Their aim was deadly accurate. A dozen enemy soldiers were painted blood red under the hailstorm of fire. The six armored Marines came charging out of the cloud, guns blazing.

Bravo Six fired his rifle, an M83, in several short controlled bursts. The Barret M83 .50 Caliber, was to it's heart, a heavily modified M82; and basically a textbook definition of the term _overkill_. While the M82 was designed as a heavy penetrating anti-material sniper rifle; the M83 was designed for assault in mind. While still firing the fearsome .50 Caliber round, this model utilizes a huge 30 round clip and is capable of both semi and fully automatic fire.

The Barret M83 .50 Cal assault rifle. Once thought to be an impossibility, now currently pouring down hate on a company of retreating infantry. The poor bastards.

Suddenly, the ground in front of Bravo Six exploded in a brilliant display of firepower. Dirt and debris flying outwards and pelting the Marines.

_Must be the tanks. _Bravo Six immediately shifted his optics to the source of the cannon fire. His tracking computer targeting multiple heavy duty targets currently approaching from the horizon. _Four Bradleys, two Abrams. I feel loved…_

"Go evasive!" He yelled into his comm while activating his jump jets and just narrowly dodging another tank shell from the second Abrams. His fellow squad mates did the same and they effectively evaded both 120 mm and 25 mm incoming rounds.

"Whoa!" One of the Marines had a tank shell fly right by his visor, missing by mere inches.

_Getting a bit too close for comfort, better end this_…

"Mitchell! Do it!"

* * *

"Keep the pressure on' em! Keep up the fire!"

The Sergeant in command of the M2A3 Bradley infantry fighting vehicle or IFV, continued to bark out orders to his crew and to others over company wide comms. Those armored mech suits were ripping their infantry to pieces and they were just _too damn fast_ to hit with the Abrams main gun. The Bradley's 25 mm chain gun was their best bet to end this, but those guys out there were _still_ fast enough to outrun most of their shots.

"Do not let up! Do not let them-" Suddenly, the IFV shook with a loud _clank_.

"S-Sergeant!" The Bradley's gunner yelped, his face in shock and disbelief.

"What? What is it?" The Sergeant frowned as he received no reply from the gunner, only a bewildered stare. The Bradley's driver had also glanced back to the Sergeant and he too was wide eyed. Wary, the Sergeant unlocked the Bradley's hatch and popped his head out to take a peek.

His face fell.

The main gun of the Bradley, the M242 Bushmaster auto cannon, was mangled, twisted and completely bent at an angle. It would be impossible to fire the main gun now.

Another loud _clank _to the right caught the Sergeant's attention. He turned his head and saw quite the sight.

Aboard their allied Bradley, one of the mech suits sat, hanging off the side. With one of it's powerful arms, it grasped the Bushmaster gun and twisted it upwards with a loud _creak_. When the mech was finished, it activated it jets and jumped to the next Bradley and proceeded to do the same.

"Shit!" The Sergeant exclaimed, shutting the hatch and going for his radio. He had to warn the two Abrams and final Bradley before they fall victim. But before he could speak, the roof of the Bradley was torn open. The crew looked up, fearfully and met the unmerciful gaze of one of the mech suits. The mech waved a metallic hand down at them, amused, and then dropped a small device into the IFV. The crew stared at the device with dread and nearly pissed themselves as they realized what it was.

"Oh fuc-"

* * *

First Sergeant Thomas Mitchell smiled to himself as he jumped away from the Bradley, whose inside was now stained crimson. He landed on the next, ripped open the hatch and proceeded to drop another grenade. Mitchell continued his tactic until all the Bradley's were out of commission. Of course by this time, the two M1A2 Abrams tanks had realized the fate of their supports and had opened fire on the fire team of Marines.

"Ooof!" One of the men under Mitchell's command grunted as multiple .50 Cal rounds struck his back, deactivating the Marine's jump jets and causing him to crash into the ground.

"Man down!" Mitchell exclaimed while dodging more incoming machine gun fire. _Their getting smarter; using the fifty instead of the Abrams' cannon._

"Lieutenant!" Mitchell calmly spoke over the comm. "We could use some help out here, sir."

"Acknowledged." Came Bravo Six's reply as one of the Abrams suddenly jerked upwards and flipped over, revealing a group of three mech suits that were sitting behind it. The last Abrams rotated it's cannon to them, only to fall to the same fate as it's companion, the last three members of Bravo Six's team flipping it on it's side with ease. After the lost of the tanks, the rest of the battle was over quickly as the squad of mechanized Marines quickly mopped up any surviving soldiers and regrouped.

"Mitchell, how's Alvaro?" Bravo Six; the Lieutenant asked the Sergeant.

"I'm good sir." Alvaro spoke on Mitchell's behalf, walking over to the squad with his First Sergeant in tow.

"You sure Corporal?" Questioned the Lieutenant, taking note that Alvaro's mech had smoke billowing from it's backside, his jump jets malfunctioning.

"Jump jets sir." The Corporal shook his armored head and reassured the officer. "Engines One through Three are offline; Four is sparking. But all other systems are in the green, sir."

"Good. Let's get this done." The Lieutenant walked over to what the enemy were so desperate to defend: a group of sandbags, set up around a single blue colored flag. The flag was designed with a Big Red 1, and over it was a tank being struck with a lightning bolt. The text: _1st__ Tank Battalion, _stenciled above and below the design. Immediately after grabbing the flag, text scrolled over the Lieutenant's Heads Up Display, as well as everyone's else's.

**CELER, SILENS, MORTALIS. FORCE RECON STANDS ABOVE ALL OTHERS.**

"And that's a wrap people!" A different voice, more authoritative than Bravo Six, spoke over the comm. "Evac is on the way, and medical teams are on station. Great job Marines. The beer is on me tonight!"

"With all do repect sir." The Lieutenant grinned, "You do realize just how big of a mistake your making, right?"

The man over the comm laughed. "I don't plan on spending much, Davis. I said _Beer_, not _booze._"

"Awww!" One of the Marine complained. "Come on sir! Don't hold out on us!"

"Sorry Tatsuta. But I can't really promise anything with my superiors in the room with me…"

"Point made Captain." Lieutenant Marc Davis rushed a reply before Tatsuta had a chance to say something. "I'll keep'em in line. Six Out"

"HEY! TANKERS!" Lance Corporal Crenshaw yelled over his mech's external speakers, shouting out to the men of the 1st Tank Battalion, who were busy picking themselves up off the ground. He pumped a fist in the air and stuck up his middle finger. "SUCK IT!"

"Enough Jamie." Corporal Dempsey sighed. Armored plates on his mech slid out of the way and he squirmed out of the exoskeleton. "Let'em sulk in peace." He said, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

"What? We won. We should be allowed to gloat."

"Hey! Recon!" A voice called out and Dempsey turned to see a squad of Marines walking towards him. He noted with amusement that each man had some sort of stain of red paint splattered on their outfit. Signally that each one was hit, and designated KIA in the earlier war-game.

"Can I help you with something Staff Sergeant?" Dempsey asked.

"Yeah. You can." If the Staff Sergeant was angry over losing the exercise; he wasn't even bothering to hide it. "We still have men stuck inside the Abrams! And I don't have a big ass robot to help get them out! So if you would mind…?!"

"Sorry about that Staff Sergeant." Davis said, walking over. Clad in a skin tight jumpsuit with a standard MARPAT design. "We'll handle that. In the mean time, get your men together. If you have any wounded, get them prep for evac. We have Huey's on the way." Davis let a small smile cross his lips as he saw the SSgt's left eyebrow twitch as he took note of the Davis' rank, being superior to his own.

"Yes sir." The Staff Sergeant grumbled, collected his squad, and left to gather his platoon. Dempsey and Crenshaw (Who had also exited his mech) did not even bother to hide their grins.

"That was a very mean thing to do LT." Crenshaw said, giving his arms a good long stretch. "But we owe you one."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Davis gave them a nod before walking back over to Mitchell and his team.

"Staff Sergeant, I'm gonna need you and your team to…_help _the Marines stuck within their tanks." He called out to the men still operating their suits.

"Consider it done sir." One of the armored suits nodded and began heading over to the two flipped over Abrams. He pointed out to the farthest tank away.

"Jackson, Hale, Rios. You guys take that one. Alvaro, with me." The team split and headed to their objectives. Alvaro took a hand and banged it loudly against the Abrams side.

"Hello! You guys still alive in there?"

"'Bout damn time man!" A voice, muffled through the tank, cried out. "Get us out of here!"

"Say please…"

"Go to hell! Stop screwing around!"

"Stop being so rude and mayb-"

"HURRY THE FUCK UP!"

"Jeez…" Alvaro sighed, shaking his head. "No manners. Right Top?" He said to Mitchell, who in turn, shook his head.

"Quit playing and get to work." He said, his mech bending over to grasp the Abrams, ready to flip. "We go on four." Alvaro nodded and bent over.

"Whatever you say Top." He grinned and then spoke to the tank crew. "I would suggest to brace yourselves. This might hurt a bit…"

"What!?"

"And a one, and a two and a-"

* * *

"…Three, four, five, six…"

Captain Jonathan Baker quickly counted over the number of high ranking personnel that had filled out the command center of Camp Pendleton. They had come form all corners of the UN. Generals, aides, bureaucrats, politicians, the Joint Chiefs of both the Marine Corps and the Navy; and then, in the far back, his face obscured by shadows, the commander of NERV-02.

Baker frowned. All these people had come just to see _his _Marines in action? Originally, this had only been a private screening to show the Joint Chiefs just what their new mechas were capable of.

The XM7 Powered Combat Exoskeleton; otherwise known as the "Wyvern", was on the drawing board long before the events of Second Impact. Before then, there were numerous arguments against having mecha as a combat system. Joints were much more prone to mechanical breakdown than the simple track and drive wheel system of an armored fighting vehicle. They also had a much higher profile than that of a tank and much more surface area to hit.

But the Captain knew that the military would eventually go do something like mecha for infantry. The standard weight that infantry soldiers were expected to carry nowadays was ridiculous! And getting heavier and heavier as time went on. A properly designed mecha would greatly amplify the capabilities of an infantry grunt. Proof was in the exercise they had just watched. A single squad of mechs completely annihilated an entire Armored Column. Now what could the whole Platoon do? The possibilities were endless.

And thus, the Wyvern were planned to be mass produced. Albeit, a bit too late to claim the title of "First Combat Ready Mecha". No that title belonged to NERV, who in their infinite wisdom, had thought that making a giant robot the size of fucking Godzilla was a good idea…

…Of course, humanity _was_ coming under attack by giant alien monsters who were also the size of Godzilla. So in the end, things kinda worked out…

Baker shook his head furiously in an attempt to clear his head. He had to focus on his job and forget about NERV. Besides; them and their Evangelions could go bite his Wyvern's shiny, metal, as-

"Gentlemen." Baker nodded to the collect group of men sitting in front of a monitor currently playing the recording of the exercise. "I'm sure you have plenty of questions to ask…"

"Captain?" The Marine Joint Chief interrupted.

Baker blinked. "Sir?"

"Have you been reading _Starship Troopers _or any of the _Battletech _novels lately?" The General said with a small smile.

"Truthfully, General? Quite a bit." Baker grinned. "Gives a whole new meaning to _Mechanized Infantry, _doesn't it?"

"Well, that would explain much…" The Navy Joint Chief mused. "Your Marines are very combat efficient, Captain. But their tactics are just a bit…what's the word? _Unorthodox_?"

"You mean the deal with the Abrams? Remember Admiral." The Captain argued, "They had no antitank weapons available…"

"Marines are made to improvise." The USMC General summed it up for his Navy counterpart, who nodded. One of the Generals from the UN spoke next.

"Suits of these capabilities must require extreme amounts of energy. What do you use to power the Wyverns?"

Baker knew that somebody would bring this question up. Ever since the disastrous maiden flight of the Jet Alone prototype, fears of nuclear meltdown had nearly tripled in number. So much that some countries were considering shutting down reactors and boycotting any nuclear powered ships from entering their waters. Baker knew these people wouldn't like his answer…

"We have a small Americium power generator located below the waist which…"

"Wait! Wait! You mean you have a miniature nuclear reactor onboard each suit?!"

Baker sighed, dejected, there would be no way out of this one. "In a manner of speaking: Yes."

The room was instantly in an uproar. Officials on both sides arguing over the matter of the americium generators. One side pro nuclear power. The other: against it. A the arguing got so bad that a few MPs were rushed into the room; nearly restraining the Navy Admiral as he threatened a politician who had insulted his nuclear powered fleet.

Suddenly, in the far corner of the room, a figure stirred and stood up. Everyone in the room ceased their quarreling and all was quiet. The shadowed form exited the obscuring darkness to reveal an aging, dark skinned man with the words _NERV _stenciled on his uniform's right shoulder. He walked forward, further into the light and view of everyone else in the room, he looked right into Baker's eyes and spoke.

"How high are the risks with the reactor?" His voice was cold and emotionless.

Baker was silent for a moment, and then. "Minimal. We have a new cooling system set and in case of a meltdown; the pilot can shut down the reactor manually. Radiation is also not a problem. I've spent over a hundred hours in a Wyvern and picked up about as much radiation you would get from a sunny day at the beach." He tried to reassure the NERV commander as well as many others in the room.

"And if it everything fails and it _does _meltdown?" The UN General from earlier spoke again, still hesitant over the Wyverns.

"The blast will not be _too_devastating. It will be on par to say…a thermobaric bomb. Not much radioactivity either."

Suddenly, the Commander of NERV-02 started to make his way to the briefing room's exit. Before he did, he locked eyes with Baker and stated: "Commander Ikari has asked for me to gather a respectable task force to provide security at NERV Headquarters. As of this moment Captain Baker, I am appointing _your _unit to the job." He never broke the steely gaze, didn't even blink. "In three days time, you and your men will travel with the Pacific Fleet, first to Germany, and then Tokyo-3. You will dock and then proceed to your duties at the Geofront. Gendo Ikari will give you orders from there."

"Now wait just a minute!" The USMC Joint Chief exclaimed, clearly against the plan. But before he could even finish his sentence, the NERV Commander was out the door and gone. The General swore vigurously.

Baker blinked. He still had so many questions to ask. NERV HQ had both the JSSDF and the Evangelions. What need did it have for Force Recon Operators? And why would the Pacific Fleet stop in Germany? The whole thing just smelled classified and he didn't like any bit of it.

"Is there anything we can do to stop this?" The Marine General spoke to his Navy comrade who shook his head.

"No. NERV's authority surpasses our own. All we can do is sit and obey like a loyal dog." The General swore again and the Admiral looked as if he could use a drink.

They both turned to Baker, excepting…something from him. Baker just shook his head and stood up straight.

"Well…I guess that settles it." He said to the entire audience in the room. "In three days; 1st Platoon of Bravo Company, Marine Force Reconnaissance; will be deployed to Tokyo-3 under command of Gendo Ikari of NERV HQ." He frowned. High Command wasn't gonna like this one bit…

"Well if that's the case." The USMC Chief said, standing up to shake Baker's hand. "Guess all I can do is wish you luck. Can't say I trust NERV much, but I trust in your leadership Captain. You do your Country and the Corps proud."

"Yes sir." Baker said, shaking his hand.

The Navy Chief smiled, also reaching over to grasp Baker's hand. "God help the poor bastards who get in your way son."

"Oorah sir. Oorah."

* * *

**Don't even ask me where this came from. I guess I've been playing too much MechWarrior lately. But truth is that i felt that _Neon Genesis_could use just a bit more mecha than the Evangelions or Jet Alone. And I've always wanted to write a fic involving FORECON so...I guess this came into existence**

**And as a notice; many ideas and principles in this fic do not belong to me. I am merely...borrowing. So much of the credit of technical aspects of this story will have to go to:  
-Robert A. Heinlein; the Author of _Starship Troopers. _The man who first came up with the idea of Mecha.  
_-_John Ringo; for the idea of Wyvern Armored Infantry  
-Day 1 Studios; for the concept of BattleArmor**

**The look of the Wyvern Mecha is based off a picture I saw on Yahoo Images. I have a Direct Link to the picture on my profile.**

**Take note that I am not in the Military (Yet...) so I if screw up on Jargon or Military Discipline, please go ahead and give me a heads up.**

**Feel free to review. No flames please. I do realize that this is a OC fic (Which is very much frowned upon in the Evangelion fiction) but if you have a problem with my story. Either don't read, or leave an educated review.**

**Until Next Time  
-Tomato**


	2. I'm On A Boat

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

* * *

"Well fuck me sideways. It's a goddamn Eva!" Crenshaw said as he and the other men of first squad watched as NERV technicians, engineers and multiple German Army CH-53 Sea Stallion heavy lift transport choppers carefully lowered the massive red colored robot onto the_ HMS Albion_. The aging Royal Navy amphibious assault ship made a loud creaking sound as the extremely heavy mecha entered the modified deck and into a pool filled with LCL.

Back on board the _USS Enterprise ,_ the squad of Recon Marines groaned. No doubt both the ship and the entire fleet would be overflowing with talk and gossip about the new Eva, they'd never hear the end of it. It would be their first few days all over again.

It's been a little over a week since the UN Pacific Fleet left the US mainland, towards their objective in Germany. And; at least for the thirty nine men of 1st Platoon, Bravo Company, it had been quite the hellish first week. The entire Platoon's supply of Wyverns were set up across the _Enterprise's _flight deck in neat columns, perfectly aligned to allow the entire fleet to catch glimpse of their armored backsides. Since powered armor was such a popular subject to military personnel and up until now, only apart of science fiction; the Marines were instantly bombarded with questions from everyone on board the _Enterprise._ From sailors, to pilots, to commanding officers and even fellow Marines, it seemed everyone wanted to know _everything_ about the Wyverns.

"Are they hard to operate?"

"Are they going to be mass produced?"

"How much does one cost?"

"Are grunts like us gonna get one?"

"How much ass do they kick?"

It had been entertaining for a little while, then got a bit annoying, and kept getting worst and worst until it had gotten to the point that Crenshaw would literally say "Fuck off" to any enlisted personnel who tried to even speak to him. Seeing how effective this was, the rest of the Platoon decided to adopt the tactic and dub it, the "Crenshaw Reaction."

Eventually; and through the use of many Wyvern oriented threats, personnel aboard the _Enterprise _had gotten the message, quit questioning and left the Marines alone. But now, with the arrival of the Evangelion, those suppressed questions will have made their way out, and no doubt _someone _was curiously sitting outside of 1st Platoon's quarters. Just waiting for some unlucky Marine to come strolling in…

Crenshaw reached into his BDU pocket and clutched the handle of his sheathed Ka-Bar combat knife. If any stupid son of a bitch tried to talk to him, they'll get seven inches of ice cold blade pressed to their throat and one very unhappy FORECON operator on their hands.

"What's up with the color?" LCpl Rios said, still staring at the Eva. "First purple, then orange, now bright red? Who the hell comes up with the designs on these things?!"

"Well…they are only piloted by children." Dempsey shrugged, glancing over and Crenshaw chuckled.

"Yeah. Probably reminds them of their favorite flavor of candy." He glanced over his shoulder and his eyes rested on another Marine who's attention was focused elsewhere. "What says you kid? If you had a giant robot, what would you color it?"

The "kid" he was referring to was really Private First Class Scott Parker; who was currently staring up high into the sky, Crenshaw's voice barely even registered with the PFC.

Crenshaw frowned in annoyance when Parker failed to acknowledge him. So he reached into his pocket, pulled out a nickel and tossed it at the Private's head.

PFC Parker was busy watching a pair of F-35 Lightning II fighter-bombers maneuvering at high altitude and so wasn't even aware that the Lance Corporal had called for him. Not at least until something collided with his forehead. Breaking his gaze from the two Navy fighters, he looked down and spotted the offending item; a five cent nickel which twinkled and shone in the sunlight.

_The hell…?_

"Yo! Kid! Anybody home?" Crenshaw called and Scott frowned. His fellow Marines had given him that name when they had discovered he was only at the age of sixteen, being the youngest person to ever serve in FORECON. When Second Impact occurred, half of humanity was wiped off the face of the Earth. With such low population levels and even lower numbers of surviving Military personnel, the U.S government had desperately changed the minimum enlistment age from eighteen to sixteen. And with Parental Guardian permission and a few contacts; even lower ages like fifteen or fourteen could be considered.

Before the Marines; Scott Parker had lived a shit life, no amount of denial would ever change that. He was born Janurary 21st, 1999. Nine months prior to that, his mother was a high school drop out who met his father when he stopped in for a bite to eat at the Denny's where she worked. The next morning when she had awoken in her apartment, she found her bed sheets were wet and sticky and clothing was scattered across the floor. The man she had slept with was nowhere to be found and she remembered close to nothing of him, not even the man's name.

After discovering she was pregnant, she had originally planned to have an abortion, but had chickened out at the last moment and had instead given birth to Scott. The first few months had been hard; she lost her job, her apartment and was then forced to live on the streets and off of soup kitchens and homeless shelters.

Then Second Impact happened, and the whole world went to hell. Famine and disease spread like wildfire throughout the country and a short but bloody civil war broke out in the Northern States.

Scott and his mother survived by simply hiding during the majority of the war and gaining food and shelter from massive Red Cross and U.S Army refugee camps. Afterwards, they moved to Colorado City to try and start a new.

Scott remembers what it was like. He lived in a very poor neighborhood, a ghetto by standards. He went to a dirty, old school funded by the Red Cross and would always come home to find either his mother wasted drunk or at "work".

His mother had stooped as low as to prostituting her body away to strangers to keep up a regular income. Every time a client would touch her, a little piece of herself died inside. It reached a point that her soul was considered empty, empty of everything except for cold bitterness and pent-up hate.

Of course, all that hate and anger couldn't stay locked up inside forever, so she took her anger out on the thing she blamed for the whole mess she called life, her own flesh and blood: Scott.

Beatings came often, anytime a customer would be just a bit too rough with her or when a particularly expensive tax came in the mail; Scott would be blamed, screamed at and struck.

Scott knew that hate was a strong word, and in this instance, just not enough. He _despised _his dear old motherwith every ounce of his existence. She was frail and small while he was healthy and big, he knew that it would be so simple and easy to just _snap _the bitch's neck and that would be the end of it. But no, Scott would not stoop as low as to commit murder, not even on his own wretched mother.

Scott was no fool, he knew that one day his mother would eventually snap, and would get particularly violent. He knew that he needed to leave this house and his mom before something horrible happened. He needed to leave Colorado as soon as fucking possible.

And so, in his crappy ass school; Scott would study, he would study his ass off. He studied in hopes of finding a solution. He _needed_ to get away, to get out, and he needed it _fast!_

Scott was fourteen when he discovered his answer. He remembered the joy and excitement he felt when he first found and read that brochure for the USMC. Sixteen, that's age. That's the age when he could escape, when he could leave all of this behind. But then Scott did some research on enlistment and learned that with enough strings pulled and his mother's consent, that it was possible to join _now, _at the age of fourteen. He talked to recruiters and they gave him a permission slip; all he needed was _her _signature.

That night he was incredibility nervous, knowing his mother; she would probably laugh in his face and order him to "Shut the hell up and fetch me a beer!" But instead, she signed the slip without haste, overjoyed at the thought of her "Waste of space son" being shipped _far _away and out of her hair.

Two days later, she was dropping him off at the recruiting office. Scott would forever remember the final words spoken between the two of them.

"Your not my problem anymore." She said without remorse, without pity and Scott felt his blood boil. "You've been screwing up my life even since the day you were born. I say good riddance to you. You'll never amount to anything! I hope you die in some far away country, cold and alon-" She never finished her sentence as Scott reached over and slapped her across the face. She was completely still for a moment, terrified out of her mind, but then rage and anger took over and she retaliated with a slap of her own, only to find that Scott had caught her strike mid swing and was gripping her wrist, painfully tight.

"Fuck you mom." He hissed, his voice, laced with venom. "I hope you burn in hell, along with my bastard father. I _will _prove you wrong! Fuck you!" He stormed out of the car after getting that off his chest. He walked towards the entrance of the recruiting office and opened the doors, before he stepped in, he took once last look towards his mother's car. She was still staring, shocked and in awe at her son's actions. Seeing that Scott was returning her gaze, she immediately hit the ignition and floored it. Scott watched her car drive away until it was nothing more than a speck in the distance.

It would be the last time he would ever see her.

Boot Camp was tough, testing Scott and pushing him to his limits. Due to his young age, he was a regular target for the Drill Instructors, who were determined to break him. They _did _break him. But then built him back up, four times as strong as before.

After thirteen weeks of hell; graduation day came and went. And the now fifteen year old Scott Parker was now a Private First Class in the 1st Marine Division. But that wasn't enough, he wanted, no, _needed _to prove his mother wrong. So almost immediately after reaching the 1st Marine Division, he volunteered for FORECON.

After going through the initial entry test, both mental and physical, he'd gone through the short hell of Recon In Process and the even longer hell of Force Recon Operator Training. That almost finished him. He was pushed well past his own limits, but kept going strong, so determined to prove his mother wrong. Out of the sixty volunteers in the class with Scott, he had been one of the only twelve to pass the full course. It was an awe inspiring sight, a fifteen year old making it into Force Reconnaissance, he raised many eyebrows on his first day. Most of the men in Recon were veteran Marines, with several years of experience, and to see a child making it into the most elite task force in the USMC, it was considered a joke to them.

But soon it came apparent that it wasn't a fluke, that they weren't being Punk'd. During their first War-Games exercise, the "Nugget" or "New Guy" proved himself in combat and earned respect, Scott was here to stay.

Of course that didn't mean that they didn't screw with him from time to time. Like when he was given his dreaded nickname…

"Kid! The hell are you staring at?" Crenshaw was matching his eyes, raising an eyebrow towards his silent stare. "Look, I know I'm fucking sexy and all…but seriously kid, you're freaking me out here."

Scott shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Sorry. So what were you saying?" He said, glancing back up, searching the skies for the pair of F-35s.

"I said; If you had one of them Evangelions, what would you color it?" He replied, looking up, curious for whatever Scott was focused at.

An eyebrow was raised. "What kinda question is that? And why the hell would you ask me?"

Crenshaw just smiled. "Because those mechas are piloted by little kids. And well, since you yourself is a kid, I just…"

"Fuck you Jamie." Scott's response got a few laughs from the other guys and Crenshaw's smirk grew into a full smile.

"Temper, temper Scotty-Boy. Now is that anyway to treat your bud?"

Scott sighed and stood up, stretching out his arms and walking away, muttering along the way. "I'm heading for the mess."

A low grumbling sound echoed from Sgt. Jackson's stomach. "That sounds like a plan, _kid_." he said, following the Private off the deck. Scott would have retorted, but then he would have been swearing at an NCO. Sure, Jackson wouldn't rat him out, but if Mitchell was nearby, his ass would be considered grass.

Good thing too, because the First Sergeant appeared on the flight deck only seconds later. Jackson and Scott gave the senior NCO a respectful nod, before entering the _Enterprise _and heading for the cafeteria.

"Crenshaw." Said First Sergeant Mitchell as he approached the group of Marines who were busy watching the rest of the fleet begin heading out of the German harbor, towards their objective in Tokyo-3.

"Top." Crenshaw said as he and the others stood up a bit straighter.

"As you can see, the fleet's leaving port now. And I promised O'Neal over there that he'd be relived of duty when the Navy gets finished with it's duties in Germany." Mitchell motioned to a Marine who was patiently guarding the Platoon of Wyverns in full gear. Captain Baker didn't necessarily trust some of the personnel on the _Enterprise _to be alone with the Wyverns. What with all the curiosity over the powered armor, so he had appointed guards to the Platoon's supply.

"I see, First Sergeant." Crenshaw wasn't liking where this was going…

"I'm gonna need youto take over his post for awhile. There's no problem with that, _right _Crenshaw?"

The Lance Corporal sighed. "Shiny. I'll get right on it, Top."

Mitchell nodded and walked away to speak with O'Neal. The other men of first squad snickered at Crenshaw's bad luck.

"Oh, fuck you guys." He scowled, making them snicker even louder.

"Methinks the Lance Corporal is offended." PFC Hale said, grinning.

"Methinks the Private should shut the hell up before the Lance Corporal beats his ass into the ground."

"Why thank you for proving my point."

"Fuck you."

* * *

"Hi honey." Baker said as he stared at the computer monitor displaying his wife's beautiful face.

After Second Impact and with the exception of the wars that followed; world governments like the U.S had decided to focus their spending on rebuilding their countries rather than upgrading Military technology. Thanks to this and the fact that nearly half of the U.S Navy was currently laying at the bottom of the ocean; the U.S government had decided to commission old retired ships to active duty instead of constructing brand new ones. Ships such as the aircraft carriers _USS Ranger_ and _USS Saratoga _were re-commissioned along with the _USS Nautilus_ submarine and several Iowa Class battleships such as the_ USS Missouri, Kentucky, _and the _Illinois. _Along with the re-commission plan, the Navy had decided to upgrade all currently surviving ships with some of the most advanced technology available.

The hulking _USS Enterprise _was one such ship. Built back in 1961, the _Enterprise _was the world's first nuclear powered aircraft carrier and was in desperate need for upgrades. The ship was equipped with everything from a more advance sonar and radar system, to a squadron of both F-35s and Su-33s multi-role fighters.

Along with all these advancements in communication and combat, the ship was also given extensive luxuries for it's crew. Internet, satellite television, gaming consoles, and a brand new communication system which linked back to the States personnel had called "V-Chat", a system that could be accessed anywhere, from the _Enterprise_, to the barracks at Camp Pendleton; pretty much anywhere a that had a computer and a camera, a direct chat room could be opened.

Currently, Captain Baker had found that he had some free time on his hands and found the computer room to be nearly empty. He quickly phoned home and left his wife a short message and then logged on the V-Chat to their own specially made channel he created one day at base. It didn't take long for Sarah Baker to log on and join him, and Baker felt his heart jump into his throat when he noticed that little baby Jack was sleeping happily on her lap.

"Johnny." She replied, happily but careful to keep her voice down, not to awaken their sleeping son. By the fizzled hair and small bags underneath her eyes, it was apparent that she wasn't that well rested and by the look of relief on her face, the baby must've just gotten to sleep. He instantly felt a bit of guilt, leaving her all alone to care for their child; sometimes, he wondered just why she put up with him…

"Sorry, did I call at a bad time?" Baker said quietly. His wife probably set the volume on the computer to a minimum, being the smart woman she is, but better safe than sorry.

She looked down to their son's sleeping form and frowned slightly. "He's been up crying all day and night. He's all worn out…" But then the frown disappeared and she smiled slightly. "I think he misses his daddy." Baker smiled at that.

"I miss you guys too. I really didn't want to leave but…"

"I know." She whispered. "Orders are orders…" The look on her face made Baker feel like a real scumbag.

"Sarah…" He said, apologetically but she suddenly shook her head.

"No, no. Your just doing your job." She sighed but then looked at him lovingly. "Someone's gotta do it. You're out there protecting me…" She stopped, then looked down at Jack. "Scratch that; out there protecting _us._" She bent over to kiss the infant on his forehead and Baker was suddenly reminded why he loved her so much.

There was a comfortable silence for a bit, the two of them just sitting there, watching their baby sleep. A few minutes passed before Baker broke the calm. "So…how was your day today?"

And as Sarah started her story, Jonathan Baker felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

* * *

Jamie Crenshaw felt like the unluckiest guy in the world.

Guard duty sucked, pure and simple. There was no way to sugarcoat it; it was lame, boring, tiresome, and he was dressed in full gear while the damn sun was mercilessly beating down on him.

_Shouldn't there be like…a cool ocean breeze or something?_ He removed his helmet and brought his BDU sleeve to his forehead wipe some perspiration off, he was sweating like crazy. _Join the Corps, they said…Force Recon will be fun, they said…_

"Goddammit…" He muttered, messing with his rifle's ACOG scope in an attempt to kill the boredom. He had half a mind to just to lay down and take a nap. Nobody had shown up on the flight deck for hours, not like anyone would see him…

_But considering my luck? Top would no doubt appear right when I lay down…_

"Fuck it." He said aloud after a moment of contemplating. He sat down, resting his back against the knees of a Wyvern and reached into his pockets for his Ipod. He immediately selected a play list, closed his eyes and forgot about the world. He was so detached from reality, that he failed to notice a Ka-27 Helix fly in and land on the _Enterprise_. Crenshaw had no way of knowing that the two people occupying the Helix, a man and a young woman, had exited the chopper. The man immediately made his way to the _Enterprise's _bridge, but the girl, she walked over to the Platoon of Wyverns, curious over why the military would make such _crappy _robotics while _her _mecha was still up and running.

Crenshaw, for his part, wasn't even aware that someone was on the flight deck with him until a voice; and in Crenshaw's opinion, a rather annoying one, laughed out loud.

"So _this_ is what the great U.S Military has to compete with _my _Unit 02? Absurd!"

No amount of blasting The Doors' "_Break on Through" _was going to block that out; so Crenshaw, slightly stunned that someone was on the deck and talking to him, shut off his Ipod, sat up and opened his eyes.

Red was his first impression. Bright red, flaming hair. Then came the also equally bright yellow sundress. And finally, the fact that the person in front of him was a young girl, no older than say fifteen, and was _very _hot.

_Still doesn't give her the right to insult Recon's Wyverns though…and what the hell is a civilian doing on the Enterprise in the first place?!_

"Ma'am, are you lost?" He asked, a bit agitated but more curious over who the hell she was. The red head ignored him and instead walked up to one of the Wyverns and gave it a thorough inspection, with Crenshaw standing there, a bemused expression on his face. After a moment, the girl the Wyvern a small kick on the knee and a dull _clank _echoed through the suit. She then gave a small unimpressed huff and started to walk away, leaving the confused Marine behind.

Confused as he was, Crenshaw knew disrespect when he saw it, and this was definitely disrespect, and if you disrespect a Marine, chances are you'll end up hurting the next morning.

"Hey! Wait a minute!" Crenshaw called out to her. Pissed off but a bit happy over finding something to do. "Who the hell do you think you are? Just walking on in here and screwing around with Recon's gear?!"

The girl spun around. "You mean you don't know who I _am_?!" She exclaimed, completely surprised; She's been on this fleet for nearly a day now, surely word had spread of her greatness. The Marine in front of her shrugged and she was taken back. _Why am I not surprised? Idiot Americans! Doesn't even deserve my introduction…_

"I am the great and beautiful Asuka Langley Soryu!" She stated with pride and superiority, egotistical. "The incredibly talented pilot of Eva Unit 02!"

Crenshaw blinked, not believing what he just heard. _No. Fucking. Way…_

Asuka anticipated the Marine to bow down in awe and to be praised. But what he really did was not what she had expected.

"Oh my god!" Crenshaw burst out laughing, slapping his knee. "Y-You've can't be s-serious!" He started stuttering due to lack of oxygen. He clutched at his sides and fell to the floor and was kept in hysterics for a good couple of minutes.

Needless to say, Asuka was pissed. _How…! How dare this…this Arschloch! Laugh at me! Right in front of me!_

"The nerve of you!" She shrieked, losing her temper. "I am a pilot for an Evangelion! Humanity's salvation!" She stomped down a foot to clearly display her anger.

"That's the point!" Crenshaw had regained control over his laughter and was now only slightly giggling. "The Eva's are piloted by kids! And you're a chick! How fucking old are you in the first place?"

"FYI, I'm fourteen! And what does it matter if I'm a girl!? You Americans are all sexist pigs!" She snarled.

"American Sexist pig huh? And just where the hell are you from?"

"I hail from the great country of Germa-"

"Germany?!" Crenshaw laughed. "So we have a fucking Nazi protecting the world?! Oh we are so _screwed!_" _How did she not see that one coming?_

Asuka's right eye had developed a mad twitch and her fists were tightly balled and shaking. "You are _so _gonna regret _that!_" She hissed, murder in her eyes. Taking a few steps forward towards Crenshaw, who in turn grinned and started removing his combat harness.

"Bring it firecrotch, I'm a fucking Force Recon Marine. You think you scare me? I'll send you back to hell where you belong…"

**

* * *

**

Deep beneath the Earth's crust is a realm that man can't possibly comprehend. This realm is made up of the screams of countless damned souls and of fire and brimstone, and is made up of nine circles. This is Hell and it is all headed by one master, the Dark Lord Satan himself.

Suddenly, the Evil Master of Hell looked up, blinked once and spoke in an eerie, soulless voice.

"**Screw that. She's your problem now Devil Dog…"**

* * *

"_No one will ever change this animal I have become…"_ Davis quietly sang to himself as he walked along the corridors of the _Enterprise. _He had just woken up from a nice nap and was in quite a good mood, all he needed right now was a small snack, a quick workout, and then his day would be over. Absolutely _nothing_ could ruin his mood right now…

"GOD DAMMIT! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T FIND HIM!!!"

…With the obvious exception of First Sergeant Mitchell, of course.

Davis groaned, crossing the corner and walking into the mess. _Figures something's up, might as well see what's wrong…_

"Mitchell." Davis interrupted what ever profanity the First Sergeant planned to yell out at a group of Marines who were looking very unnerved.

"Sir." Both he and the three Marines; Corporals Dempsey, Alvaro and PFC Parker stood at attention. Davis waved his hand to dismiss them.

"At ease." The Marines relaxed and Davis sighed yet again. "What's the problem now, First Sergeant?

"Crenshaw was on guard duty over the Wyverns." Mitchell said, scanning the mess hall for any signs of the LCpl. "I went to check up on him twenty minutes ago, all I found was his weapon and gear."

Davis frowned and turned to the mother Marines. "I take it you three have no clue where he's at?"

"Sorry sir." Alvaro shrugged.

"Right." Davis nodded and turned to Mitchell. "First Sergeant; take Dempsey and Alvaro to search the ship. Check everywhere, high and low."

"Yes sir."

"What about me, sir?" Asked Scott.

"The two of us Parker, we're heading for the deck."

Parker raised an eyebrow. "The flight deck, LT?"

"Yep. We're gonna find us some clues."

* * *

"Sorry sir. Got nada over here."

Davis sighed, this wasn't how he wanted to spend his afternoon. The sun was starting to set and soon the weight room was probably closed all ready. His plan for the day, ruined, and just because Crenshaw couldn't hold his post for a few hours. _Your in the Marines Marc, you should be used to The Suck…_

"Crenshaw's so gonna get garbage detail after this…" He muttered and Parker walked up next to him.

"So what now?" He asked and Davis shrugged.

"I guess well just go see if Mitchell had better luck than we did." But before the pair could leave the flight deck, a voice called out to them.

"Pardon me, gentlemen?"

The pair turned to find a man in slacks, a dress shirt, loosened tie and seemed like he could use a shave. Davis raised an eyebrow, the man sure didn't look Military, but what would a civilian be doing here?

"Yes? Can we help you Mister…?" Davis asked for his name but the man simply shook his head.

"My apologies but introductions can wait. I'm on a tight schedule at the moment, but it's come to my attention that you two are looking for someone, correct?" Davis and Parker both looked at each other before turning back to the stranger.

"Yes, that's correct." Davis replied, suspicious.

The man pointed to one of the Wyverns sitting closest to the flight deck's edge. "Might I suggest checking over there?"

Davis raised as eyebrow and glanced at the Wyvern, there seemed to be some sort of…rope hanging on to the waist of it. _What the hell is that…?_

"Well gentlemen, I must be going now. Good day." The man said as he headed for a Ka-27 which was sitting on the helipad, patiently.

Davis turned to Parker, who shrugged and started walking over to the suspicious Wyvern. As they drew closer, it became apparent that it was indeed, a rope tied to the exoskeleton's waist and continued onward, off the ship's edge. Davis walked over to the Wyvern and check it while Parker followed to where to rope ended, hanging off the edge.

"Where'd this come from?" Davis said, inspecting the rope. It seemed to be the type that was tied around lifesavers…but what would one be doing here?

"Hey sir?" Parker called out to him, slightly amused.

"Yeah?" He wasn't very comfortable with that shit eating grin plastered to the Private's face.

"You're gonna get a kick out of this."

Curious, Davis headed over to where Parker was leaning over the _Enterprise's _edge and looked down…

"Hey! Isn't someone gonna help me up!?"

…To find LCpl. Crenshaw hanging off at the bottom, suspended on the rope.

"Crenshaw!" The Lieutenant called down towards him. "What the hell happened?"

"S-Sir! I-Uh…got jumped! Yeah, that's it! Got jumped, there were dozens of 'em! They overpowered me, tied me up and threw me over. I'm lucky to be alive!" Now why did Davis have the feeling that that wasn't the exact truth?

"Hang on. We'll pull you up!" He called down to him and Parker began pulling.

"Oh thank god! Thought I was gonna die…"

Parker sighed. "How do I get out of this chickenshit outfit…?"

* * *

The SH-60 Seahawk landed gracefully aboard the _UNS__Over The Rainbow. _Baker nodded a thanks and goodbye to the pilot and copilot as both he and Davis jumped out of the chopper and onto the _Rainbow's _deck.

Originally christened the _USS Harry S. Truman_, the U.S Navy donated the Nimitz class super carrier to the UN combined fleet after Second Impact. With a mixed crew hailing from several different countries; the UN Congress found it fit to change the ship's name to something a bit more…multi national. Of course in Baker's opinion, all of that was a load of bull.

…_Could've at least changed it to something a little less gay… _The Marine Captain mused as he and his executive officer maneuvered through the _Rainbow's _many twists and turns and corridors.

They were heading for the ship's bridge. Earlier in the day, NERV had sent one of it's more higher ranking officers, the operations commander, to the _Rainbow_ to made acquaintance with the new Eva pilot. After hearing the news, Baker quickly called for his second in command and fetched a ride to the UN flag ship to meet up with the NERV officer. He was going to meet the ops commander when he arrived at base, might as well get it done now.

"So John, care to answer me again?" Davis had spoke as they cleared another hatch.

"What again?" Baker asked, focused more on the job at hand than whatever conversation Marc was starting up.

"Why exactly is Force Recon: the Corps' premiere deep reconnaissance, covert action, point insertion, direct action and other supported arms, Special Operations Forces. Who are trained in both conventional and unconventional warfare, heliborne and waterborne insertion and extraction, and now Wyvern armored infantry. To basically sugar coat it; the _tip_ of America's spear in Marine Air-Ground Task Force, the _elite_ of _elites_…given a bodyguard job and reduced to nothing more than a bunch of mall cops in giant tin cans?"

Baker didn't even pause in step. "Because someone more powerful than the Joint Chiefs said so."

"And that someone might be…?"

"Marc."

"Yes, John?"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Is that a request or…?

"An order from a commanding officer."

"Sooo…?"

"Marc."

"John."

"I swear to god-"

"I thought you and Sarah were Atheists?"

"…"

"Right. I get the hint. Shutting up now."

"Good, cause we're here."

They stopped in front a long set of stairs and quickly fell back into "Officer Mode", posture straight and discipline strict.

"Admiral." Baker said as he and Davis stood at attention and saluted the commander of the Pacific Fleet. The Admiral returned the salute in full.

"Ah yes. Captain Baker of Force Recon correct?"

"That's correct Admiral."

"And you're here to see the NERV Captain, yes?"

"Aye sir." _It's a Captain then? Cool, equal terms._

"Well you just missed her. She's probably in the mess; her and those young brats of hers…" The Admiral shook his head in disgust and Davis raised an eyebrow slightly.

"I understand sir. Thanks for giving us the heads-up earlier." Baker gave another salute and after receiving it back, him and Davis exited the bridge.

"Well that was a waste of a trip." The Lieutenant sighed, going down the stairs. "Now what?"

"Weren't you just listening?" Baker slightly scolded his XO. "The NERV officer is in the mess. We could still catch her if we hurry…"

Davis groaned. _I should've stayed on the Enterprise. I wonder what the other guys are doing right now…_

* * *

"_Triple Kill!" _The voice cried over the TV and Cpl. Tatsuta whooped while three other Marines groaned.

"Bullshit!" Parker complained, dropping his controller to the floor. "No way he could take us all on and _still _come out on top! I had the fucking sword and he still kicked my ass!"

"Tell me about it, kid." Dempsey sighed. "I could've sworn I stuck the bastard. Next thing I know, he gets a head shot with the sniper rifle at point blank." Tatsuta grinned at their complaints.

"Hey, I'm Asian, what can I say?"

"Oh hell no! Kid's right, this is bull!" Crenshaw threw his controller down and glared at Tatsuta. "You sir are a cheat!"

"What?!"

"That's right, you heard me! Hacker!" Crenshaw was up and pointing his finger down at Tatsuta, who in turn was glaring daggers through the Lance Corporal.

"Screw you! Your just jealous 'cause I rock at Halo and you're a noob!"

"Take that back asshole!"

"Make me!"

Taking this as a challenge, Crenshaw jumped Tatsuta and the two began wrestling on the ground; much to Parker's dismay.

"…I _really _need to get out of this chickenshit outfit…"

* * *

"Excuse me, Captain?" Baker said in perfect Japanese as he approached the table.

They had rushed to the mess hall immediately after leaving the bridge and had spotted the NERV Captain at one of the empty tables. She wasn't very hard to miss, purple hair wasn't exactly very common; she also had company, a pair of civilian teenage boys, something that Baker raised an eyebrow at. _What? More civilians…?_

"Yes? How may I help you…?" She took note and was curious as to why another officer of the same rank was conversing with her. _Better not be trying to hit on me…_

Baker stuck out his hand in a greeting. "Captain Jonathan Baker, this is Lieutenant Davis." He motioned his head towards Davis who also stuck out a hand.

"Ma'am." He nodded curtly.

Misato shook their hands and politely introduced herself. "I'm Captain Misato Katsuragi, NERV's operations commander." Misato then took note of their uniforms. "You gentlemen are Marines…?"

"Force Recon, ma'am." Baker said proudly and the teenager with the camera gasped. "We've recently been reassigned to NERV for security measures." He handed her an envelop filled with paperwork with everything from orders to intros to the Wyverns.

Misato frowned. "I wasn't informed on this. Who are these orders from?" She started skimming through the packet, pausing for a second as she glimpsed a picture of a Wyvern in combat.

"Orders come directly from NERV-02's CO and essentially, Commander Ikari himself." Misato blinked and looked up.

"He did, huh?" She frowned and seemed deep in thought for a minute until she noticed that the two Marines were still standing. "Oh, sorry. Please take a seat." She motioned to one of the empty seats besides her and the boy with the camera quickly grabbed a seat and set it next to him, smiling in admiration. The other kid sighed at his friend's antics and sweat dropped. Davis raised an eyebrow at how such a phenomenon was possible…

"Sorry ma'am. We actually need to get going. I don't exactly…trust, my Platoon to be alone."

"I understand." She smiled. "I'll see you gentlemen at base."

"Thank you, ma'am."

* * *

"_Killtactular!"_

"YOU MOTHER FUCKER!"

"Hey! Get the hell off me!"

* * *

"That actually wasn't so bad." Davis said to Baker as the two of them climbed back aboard the Seahawk utility chopper.

"Yeah." The Captain replied as he rested his head against the seat's head rest. "Katsuragi seems like a pretty pleasant CO." Davis cocked an eyebrow and smirked

"Pleasant? Must you be so modest sir? Katsuragi was _hot as__hell_!"

Baker laughed and pointed to his ring finger. "Married, remember Marc? You _were_ at the wedding…"

"Bah." Davis chuckled. "Spoil sport. Nothing wrong in looking."

"You fail to comprehend." Baker chuckled. "Half a worlds away, Sarah will still kick my sorry ass." They both laughed and Baker relaxed against his seat, starring out the window at the fleet. All was calm.

Then, the _USS __Fitzgerald _exploded.

"Holy shit!"

* * *

"_ALL HANDS! ALL HANDS! REPORT TO BATTLESTATIONS! I SAY AGAIN, REPORT TO BATTLESTATIONS!"_

"What the hell?!" Tatsuta cried as him and the others ran out of the entertainment lounge and into another troop of Recon Marines.

"Gunny!" Jackson called out to Gunnery Sergeant Nichols who was leading a group of men mixed in from both second and third squad.

"Paul, what's going on?" He asked Jackson who shook his head.

"No clue, but you hear that explosion?"

"Yeah I did. Let's get topside."

* * *

"Oh Christ! There goes another one!" Cried the Seahawk's copilot as the _HMS Daring _broke apart in two as a huge underwater object smashed right into the poor Royal Navy destroyer. The unidentified undersea object continued along a path of destruction. The Fleet responded to the surprise attack as two destroyers; the _Higgins _and the _Roosevelt _unloaded a strike of RUM-139 antisubmarine missiles onto the target. The missiles arched their way down and were direct hits, but yet the target continued to charge and collided head on with the Russian destroyer, _Marshal Shaposhnikov_. The ship exploded in a brilliant display of fireworks and ordinance and Baker said a silent prayer to all the lost souls aboard those vessels.

Several AH-1 SuperCobra attack helicopters were airborne and began tracking the unknown target, 20 mm Gatling guns and Hydra rockets pouring down hate on the living wave. But just like the 139s, the chopper's arsenal did nothing but piss the thing off. An undersea shockwave shook the sea as a submarine, the _Springfield _imploded and was crushed like a tin can by an unseen AT field.

"We need to get back onboard the _Enterprise_!" Baker called out to the two controlling the Seahawk, and the copilot looked at him unbelievingly.

"Are you nuts?!" He screamed over the roar of engines as a pair of F-18s zoomed on by. "That carrier's a sitting duck! A giant fucking bull's-eye!"

"Just do it!"

"Oh shit!" Davis cried out and nearly fell out of his seat.

"What? What is it?"

"The Evangelion! It's online!"

* * *

The Marines aboard the _Enterprise _watched in awe as Unit 02 activated and jumped off the_ Albion _only mere seconds before the ship detonated as the underwater hostile tore the vessel apart. The Eva landed nimbly on top of the French frigate, _Surcouf _as then jumped once again, this time landing on the _Roosevelt, _sending crewmen scattering for cover.

"She's playing fucking hopscotch…" Crenshaw quietly murmured and Parker turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

"She?" He asked and Crenshaw internally panicked for a moment.

"Umm-Uh…nothing! Nothing!" Parker stared at him, suspicious but returned his attention back to the battle as the crimson colored Eva hopped it's way over to the heavy cruiser _Bunker Hill_ and then to the _Ramage. _Unit 02 then focused it's attention to the Fleet's flag ship, _Over The Rainbow_. As it landed, the Nimitz class super carrier shook and swayed as it caught in a violent current.

"Guys!"

The Platoon of Marines turned around to see Sgt. Corwin from third squad, rushing over, red faced and out of breath.

"It's…an…angel!" He managed to choke out in between breaths.

"Come again?" Nichols asked.

"An Angel, Gunny! What's attacking us is an Angel!" Nichols looked skeptical.

"You're crazy." He said, unconvinced. "Where the hell did you hear that?"

"A couple of guys working the comm! They said it's an Angel! A real one!"

"Bullshit. I'm gonna need some proof."

"Gunny!" Nichols turned at the sound of someone calling out his rank and saw Dempsey waving to him. "Does _that _count as proof?!" He pointed towards the _Rainbow_ where the Eva was currently bracing itself. Not too far off, a large yellow form was rising out of the water's surface, heading for the _Rainbow._

"What the hell is th-" The Gunnery Sergeant wasn't even able to finish his sentence as a huge hulking, mass of yellow flesh shot out of the water and onto the _Rainbow, _attacking the Eva_._ The beast was huge and fishlike; fins and flippers sprouting from it's body.

" My god." Parker said, eyes wide. "It's like a giant Shamu from hell…"

* * *

Back in the underworld, Satan sighed.

"**Now why in Hell would I go and spawn a giant stupid whale and color it yellow?! Jeez you Devil Dogs are dense…!"**

* * *

"Perhaps now would be a good time to panic?" Davis asked as their Seahawk circled the _Rainbow _who was currently being assaulted by the massive aquatic Angel. The Evangelion was holding back the beast's mouth and was digging a huge knife into the Angel's flesh.

"Long as that thing doesn't sprout wings, I think I'll be fine." Baker replied as he watched the battle with great interest. Suddenly the Eva's foot caught on a lift and it fell into the sea, dragging the Angel along with it and sinking to the bottom. Baker looked over at Davis dismayed.

"Well…there goes humanity's salvation." Davis shook his head and Baker turned to the pilots.

"Land us. Now."

_

* * *

_

"Now what's going on?" Tatsuta asked aloud as they watched the crew of both the battleships _Kentucky _and _Illinois _evacuate from the vessels.

"Whatever's happening, they're breaking up the Fleet to do so." Replied Parker as the _Enterprise _and several other ships began peeling off formation, away from the two battleships. The _Rainbow _and her escorts did the same until they were all far from the two battleships. That's when the _Kentucky _and _Illinois _started sinking.

"What?" Crenshaw's mouth dropped. "That's such a waste! Why the hell are they sinking them?"

"Obviously a plan's been set into motion." Davis said as he and Baker approached the group of Marines.

"Welcome back sirs." Nichols greeted the Platoon's only officers. "I trust your trip went well?"

"Yes, actually." Baker said grinning "All was pleasant 'til a giant fish decided to come charging in and wreck half the fleet…"

"Any clue what happened to that red Eva, sirs?" Jackson asked and both of them shook their heads.

"Last we saw of it, it was sinking below the waves along with that Angel..."

"Who knows what could've happened to them." Davis finished for his CO and the Marines returned their attention to the still sea again.

With the exception of the hums of engines and props of propellers, all was silent.

Then, a massive undersea shockwave sent ripples through the current, a tall geyser of water shot out from the sea and a huge shadow sped over the ships.

Eva Unit 02 descended and landed gracefully onto the _Over The Rainbow_'s flight deck; the mecha slowed and slumped as the last reservoirs of power were drained from it's battery. Since the Eva emerged and not the Angel; it was safe to assume that victory was theirs and the men of Force Reconnaissance could not help but release a cheer.

Humanity had won the day.

_

* * *

_

"Gently! Gently now!" Davis cried up to the Engineer operating the crane that was currently handling _his _Wyvern…and very much failing at it.

After the whole incident involving the sixth Angel, the Pacific Fleet was able to reach the docks of Japan only slightly behind schedule, which wasn't that bad considering the fact that they were short seven ships and that the _Rainbow _had to be towed along by the other carriers. But they had made it in about a day and had enough time now to get the Wyverns prepped and unloaded.

_Easier said than done. _Davis grimaced as he continued to direct the crane's incompetent operator towards the designated transports which were supposed to transfer their powered armor to NERV HQ. The engineer must've been new since he couldn't seem to handle the crane correctly, there had already been a few incidents with him accidentally dropping Wyverns and while the power armor wasn't damaged, they would not doubt be needing a system recalibration, something that was _very _time consuming.

Davis would be damned if he let that happen to _his_ Wyvern.

"You seem to be having fun Lieutenant." A feminine voice called out teasingly and Davis turned around to see Misato and an unknown blonde woman sitting inside a NERV jeep which had pulled up near him. He was so focused on the crane that he hadn't even noticed the jeep slow down beside him.

"A bit too much fun if you were to ask me, Ma'am." Davis sighed, shaking his head.

Misato grinned. "Don't worry, things will get better when we get to headquarters."

"I extremely hope so, Ma'am." He said smiling and then took notice that the blonde haired woman was awkwardly, sitting quietly. Misato also took note.

"Oh sorry 'bout that." She apologized to her friend and then turned to the Marine. "Davis, this Doctor Akagi, NERV's head scientist. Ritsuko, this is Lieutenant Davis of Force Recon." Davis stuck out his hand in greeting and the Doctor shook it, politely.

"Ma'am." Davis said respectfully.

"Lieutenant." Ritsuko replied and then turned her attention to the group of Wyverns that were already set up onto the transports, ready to go. "I must admit, when I heard we were getting a new security force, this was not what I had expected." She reached over to Misato's side and pulled out the packet of papers that Baker had given the Captain a day before. She skimmed through the pages until she reached the introductions on the powered armor. "You call them Wyvern suits, correct? Interesting…"

"Yes ma'am." Davis nodded and spoke just a bit too proudly. "We have thirty-nine XM-7 Wyvern exoskeletons being transferred to NERV along with a platoon of Recon Marines. No one will be breaking into the Geofront on our watch." Misato smiled and nodded as the jeep's driver started the engine up again.

"Glad to here it." She said as they started driving away. "We'll see you at HQ."

Davis watched them go and then went back to his duties at the crane. But before he could even turn around, there was a large and loud crashing sound right coming from right behind him.

_Shit. Please don't have been my Wyvern! Please don't be mine! _He cringed when he turned and saw a Wyvern crashed face down into the ground, the name: _DAVIS, _stenciled out neatly on the armor's chest plate.

"Sorry! Sorry!" The engineer operating the crane started hollering in Japanese, Davis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I hate Japan…"

* * *

**Review Please!**


End file.
